Shattered
by peavlerk123
Summary: Set after the good karma ending of Second Son. Derek Trocker and Kristina Saint-Claire are two recently released conduits after the dissolution of the DUP, but they live in a society that doesn't wholly accept them. Rated M for language, adult situations/themes. (this story will focus mainly on OC's) All reviews are welcome :)


CHAPTER I: AFTERMATH

Derek Trocker awoke to the sudden and disastrous tremble that the passing train caused on his crappy apartment. After a few panic-stricken moments he realized that he was safe, and he cursed that damn train for perhaps the hundredth time. He had been living here for almost six months, and he'd hated it since day one. The train comes barreling through here every three days, always at night, and Derek had noticed that it had an uncanny ability to arrive _just _as he entered deep sleep.

_Isn't there another track that damn thing can take_, he thought angrily, and not for the first time. Also not for the first time, he tossed and turned as he struggled to go back to sleep after the train had passed. He heard the distant _whooo_ that its whistle made as it traversed the cityscape of Chicago.

It was 2:15 a.m., and Derek, once again, found it impossible to go back to sleep. As he lied face-up on his bed, he silently counted to himself while he waited. Sure enough, a small series of knocks resounded on his bedroom door a few moments later.

_Hmm,_ he thought. _It took her exactly forty-five seconds this time._

"Derek?" a very-tired sounding voice said from the other side of the door.

"I'm up," he sighed, though he didn't move to answer the door.

A young woman gently eased the door open, though she hesitated before walking in. Kristina Saint-Claire stood in the doorway clad only in a much-too-long t-shirt that hung down almost to her knees. The shirt was plain black, no lettering or logos, and it made her cinnamon-auburn hair glow that much more vibrantly in the moonlight streaming in from Derek's window. She was eighteen, making her Derek's junior by just two years, but she sometimes behaved as if he were the younger person.

Everything about Kristina was small. She was of below-average height, her voice didn't carry very well at all, and she rarely let her temper get the better of her. As far as bodily aspects go, Kristina was thin. She wasn't exactly what you would call 'busty,' though she wasn't flat, by any means. Her auburn hair flowed down just far enough to tickle her shoulder-blades, and her skin had a sometimes-eerie glow because of how white it was. Not a single freckle, birth-mark or blemish was present on her face.

Derek knew that this simple black t-shirt was Kris's favorite sleep-shirt. He also knew she wasn't wearing a bra underneath it: she never wore one to sleep. It's funny how many quirks and habits you can learn about someone after living with them for a while.

Derek and Kristina were conduits ('convicted conduits,' Kris sometimes joked), and they had both served three years in Curdun Cay. Following Delsin Rowe's victory over Augustine in Seattle, the U.S. government had worked personally with Rowe to completely dismantle the Department of Unified Protection, and the military had resumed control over all extra-human law enforcement. Sure, all of the prisoners in Curdun Cay were released (though they'd been held for almost five months while the government debated on whether they were 'safe' to allow back into society), but as part of the Rowe Act all known conduits were placed on a massive database. The Rowe Act also created the Conduit Reimbursement program, which was essentially welfare for superhumans, so Derek wasn't going to complain. Not when there was free money to be had, even if it wasn't enough to live on.

Altogether, Derek and Kris had been completely free for about seven months now, and they'd been together since their belated release from Curdun Cay. Through their limited contact while inside Curdun Cay, they'd established something of a close friendship, and since neither of them had any family to speak of they had formed an unspoken pact to tough it out together…for now. Derek had been intending to talk to Kris about that, but somehow he couldn't bring himself to discuss it yet.

Kristina was a glass conduit, and a damn strong one at that. Augustine had tried using her to pump the DUP soldiers full of Kris's DNA, but apparently glass isn't so easy to manipulate. _You wouldn't know it by watching her, though, _Derek thought. _She's like Mozart with super powers. _

Derek himself had control over sound waves, which was always annoying to explain to other conduits. _'How do you absorb sound?' _they always ask. He'd always thought that 'sound conduit' didn't exactly sum up the extent of his powers. For example, he could vibrate things at the molecular level by sending low- or high-frequency sound waves at them. This was useful for shattering glass at a moment's notice (much to Kris's surprise), but if he amped up the force that his waves emitted he could propel himself through the air or telekinetically shove people or objects away. If he was _really _juiced up with energy, he could create blasts of sound strong enough to deflect bullets. Curdun Cay had taught him how to effectively and efficiently hone his abilities for destructive purposes. Maybe the government was right to fear conduits, though Derek was no murderous psychopath. He just happened to have incredibly dangerous powers, is all.

Due to the nature of his abilities, Derek had received special treatment from Augustine herself, as had Kristina and a select few others. It was true that Derek rarely needed to 'absorb' or 'drain' sounds to replenish the energy his powers required: since there is almost always sound everywhere, including when people speak near him, his body receives the impact that the sound waves make and thus supplies him with a near-infinite source of power. Derek's cell in Curdun Cay had been meticulously designed so that no audible sounds could be created inside it. Augustine and her guards had communicated to him via speech-to-text monitors, and his entire cell had been padded to prevent Derek himself from clanging against any hard surfaces to create vibrations. His own voice wasn't enough to power his abilities, ironically, though simple room conversation wasn't really a reliable power source, anyway.

Kris yawned widely in the doorway, and that snapped Derek's wandering mind back to the present.

Kristina half-walked, half-stumbled over to the sliding glass door next to Derek's bed. She lifted the blinds up with one finger to peek out into the city, using her other hand to push her hair from her face.

"That damn train," she mumbled.

"That damn train," Derek agreed with a sigh. He began counting in his head again, waiting for her usual question.

This type of nighttime encounter had somehow become commonplace for the two of them. Derek wondered if Kris looked forward to missing a night's worth of sleep every other day. Secretly, he actually _did_.

_Maybe she won't ask this time_, he mused to himself as he approached five minutes in his silent counting. This whole time, Kristina had been standing at the door that led out onto the fire escape, simply looking out into the dark city. Derek had guessed wrong, however.

"Do you want to go up?" Kristina asked quietly.

Derek couldn't suppress a small smile. "Don't you want to get dressed first?"

"I'm fine."

"But it's cold outside," Derek replied as he followed their usual post-train repertoire.

"I don't mind," Kris said. "So, are we going or not?"

Derek sighed as if this whole thing was a huge pain in his ass. That too was part of their typical late-night encounters: Derek had to act like he didn't _want _to go outside and up to the top of their apartment building.

"Yeah," he groaned as he rolled out of bed. "I'll put a coat on."

Without another word, Kristina slid the glass door to the right, all without touching it once. Being a glass conduit has some practical uses, after all.

Derek walked over to his open closet and grabbed two heavy coats from the pile of maybe-not-so-clean laundry, one for himself and one for Kris. _It must be like some power-struggle thing she's got going_, he thought. _Why else would she refuse to bring her own coat, yet always expect me to bring two?_

After he put his coat on, Derek followed Kristina out onto the fire-escape balcony. He knew she wouldn't wait for him, and he was right. Looking up, Derek saw that Kristina was already half-way to the top, so he draped the extra coat over one shoulder and began ascending the metal steps. He felt every vibration that his steps made, as well as those from Kristina's feet two stories above him.

A minute later they were both standing on the roof of the building as they admired the view of the nighttime city. Well, _Kristina _was admiring the view. Derek had handed her the extra coat—which she promptly put on, like usual—and was now sitting down on a bench. There were actually three picnic tables up here on the roof, probably because the view really was fantastic, if you could forget that you're on top of a shitty apartment complex.

This was what Kristina so loved to do on train-nights. She would never mention it during the day, and they never planned for this to happen. But every time the train would wake them up as it passed, Kris would gently knock on Derek's door to see if he was awake (which he always was), and then they would come up here to gaze out at the lights of nighttime Chicago. She didn't want to come alone, either. If Derek didn't come up here, neither did Kristina…but Derek hadn't said 'no' yet.

Derek heard Kris sigh while she examined the city. He felt a lump in the inside pocket of his coat, and feeling around in there he found a pack of cigarettes and a lighter. _What luck_, he thought. He extracted one of the thin little cancer-sticks and tried sparking the lighter, but it wouldn't create a flame.

Kris heard the lighter and turned her head at him. Even without looking, Derek knew she was scowling as she walked over to sit next to him.

She plucked the unlit cigarette from his mouth and threw it over the side of the building. "You said you would quit," she scolded.

"I _have _quit," he replied. "I haven't had a smoke in two months."

Kristina elbowed him hard in his ribs. "Then why do you have a whole pack, huh?"

"It's like keeping a spare tire," he teased as he drew another cig from the pack. "It's always good to have one handy, in case you ever need it."

"That's…that's not the same!" Kris pouted at him. "Please don't."

_Damn her pouty-face_, he thought bitterly. "Alright, alright. Look, I'll get rid of 'em." He placed the pack of cigarettes on the palm of one hand. With a slight flexing motion the pack of cancer became airborne as Derek floated it away on a sound-wave. Once it was about five feet above them, Derek gestured again and the cigarettes blasted away into the depths of the city.

"See, I _have _quit," he said.

"Th-thank you," Kris chattered. She was shaking a little from the late-October cold, especially since she was wearing only a pair of panties, a t-shirt, and a coat.

Derek was more than surprised when Kristina suddenly huddled close to him on the bench. She laid her head on his shoulder while she hugged her arms to her chest. This was _not _part of their usual city-gazing routine. Normally, she only wanted to come up here for a few minutes before going back down into their apartment, but now she buried her face in Derek's neck to escape the cold.

Not feeling particularly comfortable with this but not knowing what else to do, Derek gingerly and hesitantly placed one arm around Kristina's shoulders. _What's she playing at, now? _

"Are you cold?" he asked her. _Are you cold?! What am I, stupid? Of course she's cold, _he thought.

Kris issued a soft giggle. "Yeah…I'm not wearing pants, remember?" She yawned again, and Derek felt her head lift slightly on his shoulder.

_Maybe now might be a good time. We're alone, and I've got her attention. _Derek took a deep breath before continuing. "Kris?" he asked.

She kept her head on his shoulder as she replied. "Yeah?"

But once again, something inside Derek prevented him from taking the conversation further. He _had _to tell her eventually, but for the life of him he couldn't figure out why it was so hard to bring up. He should just say it and be done, but he couldn't do it. Not now, not when she was curled up so comfortably next to him. He was intimately aware of her shifting weight as she lifted her head to look at him.

"What is it?" she asked. Derek turned his head to look back at her. Kris's uniquely-purple eyes stared back at him, a gaze that he still found hard to meet sometimes. They were just so damn colorful and bright. _Shit. Think Derek, think. Say something._

"I applied for that job I told you about," he said quickly.

Kris perked up a little at that. "The library down the street?"

"Yeah. They said I can start next week."

"Derek, that's great!" Kris beamed at him, and Derek's stomach flipped around guiltily when she wrapped her arms around him for a hug.

Since being fully released from Curdun Cay (after the long months of waiting for Congress to make up its damn mind), Derek and Kristina had been living solely on the checks they'd been getting from the Conduit Reimbursement program, though it was hardly enough. Derek had applied for several jobs over the past few months without any luck. One compromise that had arisen through the Rowe Act was that businesses could legally refuse to hire 'high-risk' conduits, and thanks to the government database, anyone with internet access could learn all about the various ways that Derek and Kris could kill them. They were both placed firmly in the 'high-risk' category, courtesy of the special training they'd received from Augustine. Derek and Kristina were skilled superhuman assassins…but that wasn't exactly something a potential boss likes to hear. Kristina had lately been making stained-glass mini-sculptures to sell outside local coffee shops for some extra cash, but even then they ran into problems with anti-conduit activists. Some people didn't like knowing that Kris had made them with her powers, and the word had begun to spread.

Derek hadn't lied, though. He really did get the job, but that wasn't what he needed to talk to Kris about. She let the hug drag on while she squeezed him, and he pulled her shoulders a little closer as well. His heart joined in on the internal-organ-gymnastics that his stomach was performing as he felt Kris's frail form ease into his. He realized that he'd never held Kris like this before.

"We're gonna be okay, aren't we?" she mumbled against him.

_I sure hope so, Kris. _"Yeah," Derek replied. "I think we will."


End file.
